The Turkish job
by Cibbs
Summary: Sherlock has an important mission to accomplish for the British goverment in Istanbul. Being dead for the rest of the world, he has to use a pseudonym and live in Turkey under the most strict secrecy. But there are three more people who know where he is...


How I wish you were here

We're just two lost souls

Swimming in a fish bowl

Year after year

Running over the same old ground

What have we found?

The same old fears

Wish you were here...

(Pink Floyd)

CHAPTER I

Molly Hopper used to dress the best she could for a date. That afternoon, she went to the hairdresser, and she left with her hair hold in a chignon elegant which would embellish later with some cloth flowers or, perhaps, a silver tiara. She also bought herself a new dress, blue, the colour of peace. It was composed by a corset closed on its back by a thwarting of satin ribbons and a skirt voluminous which ended in the floor. It was brace less, which made it perfect to decorate her neck with a complicated silver necklace. In order to display his femininity, she underpinned a pair of high heeled sandals in the colour of the sand and covered her shoulders with a white silk shawl with long frayed edges in its sides. She also painted her lips in a very soft violet colour and her nails, in a dark blue with silver reflections and put a drop of rouge on her cheekbones. He didn't dare to make up her eyes, because she thought in any moment she could lose her temper.

She gave a last refresh to the tiara which decorated her chignon, put on an old looking watch, took a silvered metal purse with the lock adorned with a lapis lazuli and, after winking an eye to herself in the mirror, she went out home.

She stopped a taxi and gave the address to the cabbie. She was so nervous that started to move his hands and to clench them with strength. She looked at his watch each two minutes.

"Are you alright, miss?" The cabbie asked.

"Yes, don't worry." Molly answered, moistening her neck and nape with some drops of 4711.

Some minutes later, the taxi arrived to the restaurant. Molly paid, got out the car and, before entering the place, she breathed deeply. A pianist played a soft version of Sexual healing and some waiters came and go with metal and wood trays. She asked for her table and, before sitting, she placed his shawl in the back of her chair. "He's late." Molly thought, looking at his watch.

But just then, a very tall boy dressed in a tuxedo approached to her table. Sherlock had arrived. She stood up and both kissed on the cheeks. When they sat down, a waiter gave them the menus, which the couple started to read in silence. Some minutes later, the waiter returned to the table, took note of the orders and went to the kitchen.

Molly tried to take a slice of bread from the basket, but Sherlock thwarted her by taking her hand and caressing it.

-And this?- Molly asked.

\- I'm gonna miss you.

\- Do you know how much time you'll be abroad?

-All the time I would need. But you know you can't tell anyone.- And Sherlock said also, with a blast of laughter.- It's supposed that I am dead, remember?

Molly opened the menu and observed it for a while before deciding. Nervousness had take away her appetite, to the extent of looking food revolted her.

-Everything's gonna be alright.- Said Sherlock, smiling.

She breathed deeply.

-I'm worried about John.- She whispered.- He doesn't know anything. She would be shattered.

-I know. But they say time cures everything. Let's see if that's true.

The remaining of the dinner was calm. After the desserts, Molly and Sherlock exchanged gifts.

-Do you remember that once, in the lab, you told me that you wanted to see what I see? - Molly nodded her head. - Well, with this you can.

And Sherlock gave her a little black cardboard box closed with a white satin ribbon. Molly undid the knot and took off the box lid. It contained an elegant rectangular magnifying glass with a brass frame and a black and white mother-of-pearl handle.

-Thank you, Sherlock. I also have something for you.

Sherlock's gift was a red paper rectangular package. Inside it was a disc with Celtic symbols in the front.

-"My voice"- Sherlock red, turning over the disc. - Blimey! These are...

-Yes. - Said Molly.- Songs I have sung and recorded especially for you.

Sherlock thanked her by kissing her cheek before standing up. When they got out, took a taxi and went to her apartment. Molly's cat, Figaro, a blue Russian, welcomed them by passing through their legs. Sherlock got down and scratched his ears. They entered the living room, where was an ice tray in which a champagne bottle was cooling, two flute cups and a small pink porcelain plate with a dozen black chocolate truffles. Sherlock poured the champagne in the cups and toasted: "To the future".

Molly smiled and gave a sip to the drink sparkling. But Sherlock didn't even moist his lips. He decided to approach to Molly's neck before taking her in his arms and walking to the dormitory, where he left carefully the young woman in the bed. He started to loose her dress's corset laces while Molly unbuttoned Sherlock's shirt. Then, she took off his shocks with her teeth before kissing him in the groin and passing the tip of her tongue between his toes. Sherlock felt a tickling delicious which went through all his body. When Molly had finished, he hold her tightly and kissed her nape with a series of tiny kisses. After that, both achieved to fuse in one and get to the stars.

Before falling asleep, Sherlock put his hand in Molly's breast and, for the first time in many years, he started to cry.

CHAPTER II

"Good morning, Molly." She smiled to him and Figaro greeted him with a meow. "Oh, hello, pussycat."

"You know where are you going?"

"Istanbul. Something happened at Topkapi's Palace."

Molly turned and took a volume of her encyclopaedia.

"Topkapi? Here it is. It's beautiful!"

Then, the plane started to shake itself.

"Don't worry." Said Sherlock, looking at Molly's worrying face. "Figaro, you have to promise me that you will take care very well of your little friend while I'm away."

Figaro started to lick the screen as if he was saying "OK".

Sherlock poured a cup of red wine while Molly asked him:

"How's the travel going?"

"Calmed. Oh! Before I forget. Now I'm Seraphim Higgins. If we chat while I'm in Turkey, remember to call me Seraphim. Nobody can now that I'm still alive and, less, that you know it." In that moment, music started to sound. "Molly, call me tonight. I have to talk to my brother. Many kisses for you and Figaro."

Molly smiled to him while she scratched her cat's ears.

"Hello, Sherlock."

"Blimey, what an early riser." Said the detective, laughing. "Were you doing your morning training?"

"Oi, less joking. Have you read the document I sent you?"

"Yes. Something smells bad at Istanbul."

"Doesn't anything in the photos ring a bell to you?"

"Well. Topkapi palace's jewels."

"You have to solve it, Sherlock. You have to solve it whatever it takes. England diplomatic relationships with Turkey are going to hell and the fact that an Englishman solve this case could benefice both Turkey and our country."

"Well, well." Said Sherlock, looking at the document. "Well, I'm damned! Let me see if I have read it well. Each jewel had a GPS beeper which was deactivated before coming out the palace. This complicates things a bit."

"You understand now why they wanted you and nobody else?"

Sherlock bite his lips while he red the papers. "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!" He stopped when he saw one of the document's photographs. It was no other than The Woman. Dressed in tunic, veil and sandals, but it was her. "I bet my life she is..."

"Yes, sir. Be very careful, because she can be anywhere. We think she is involved in the robbery. At last we find her after all these months."

"She's still practising, isn't her?"

"Yes."

"And what on Earth is she doing in Istanbul?"

"She's hiding. She went as far as she could from England, but she didn't want to abandon Europe."

"Well, here we got a case, brother dear. Have a very nice day."

In that moment, the plane landed in Istanbul.

"Welcome, mister Higgings." Said the stewardess, when they had landed.

When he exited the airport, a chauffeur in uniform approached him with a cardboard sign between his hands in which was written Sherlock's pseudonym.

-Hosgeldiniz (1), Mister Higgins. – He said, taking Sherlock's suitcase. – My name is Mustafá Sesler and I'm going to be your chauffeur and bodyguard during all your stay in the city. Follow me, please.

Both crossed the street. On the other side was a very luxurious and antique Mercedes. Mustafá left the suitcase in the boot and helped Sherlock to get into the back seat, with tinted windows.

When they arrived to the hotel, Mustafa stopped the vehicle, took Sherlock's suitcase and followed him inside.

-I have booked a suite. The name is Seraphim Higgins.- He said.

The receptionist checked the name in her book and a bellboy took his luggage.

When they got to the suite, Sherlock gave some coins to the bellboy, said goodbye to him and lied on the bed. It was then when he thought: "What a strange sensation being dead for the rest of the world!

CHAPTER III

The next day, Sherlock got up and, after a good hot bath and a plentiful breakfast; he called Mustafa and made him drive to the Great Bazaar. He needed to smell Istanbul's essence and, where could be better than a good gathering of traders selling everything, from incense and spices to leather suitcases?

When he arrived, he did a mental photograph of the entrance's map and entered the place. Watching the clients and the traders, he started to make deductions: The tourist who was swindled by buying a synthetic fibre carpet as if it were made of pure wool; the woman who were with her children to buy spices or that man who had already finished his visit to the barber's and was going to the tea shop.

Between that crowd that dreaded Sherlock, he distinguished a woman dressed in black from head to feet. Her eyes were as green as emeralds and, when she rose up her tunic not to step on it when he went up a little stair; he discerned a pair of red stockings. She caught a fleeting glimpse at the detective and smiled. Sherlock decided to follow her. Both walked between the stalls of silks, leather goods, handcrafts and other objects. But when the pursuit was coming to its end and Sherlock had the woman at his hand reach, she disappeared. Not before Sherlock could see her face. When he did, she hit his head with some stone cylinder hidden in a white shawl. Before closing his eyes, he achieved to distinguish her features. For the first time in many months, he had seen The Woman.

Sherlock awoke lying on his hotel bed. On his bedside was a doctor taking his pulse and speaking to a chambermaid in a really fast Turkish.

"It was just a fright, mister Higgins." Said the doctor in English. "It must be the heat. You should drink more water and dress with light clothes."

"The heat, of course." Said Sherlock, still bewildered.

Then, the doctor gave some pats in Sherlock's hand, put his stethoscope in his case and left the room.

Sherlock closed his eyes and, when he opened them again a couple of hours later, he saw that The Woman was laying at his side.

She wore golden nail guards in the ring and little fingers, as Chinese empresses and her sable skin coat, which tore off, throwing it in the floor. Below it she wore a Victorian brocade green corset over a black tulle negligee which showed the gathers suspending her silk it she wore a Victorian brocade green corset over a black tulle negligee which showed the gathers suspending her silk stockings. Over the costume, lied a Manila shawl embroidered with golden trees, flowers and birds. Her pubic hair, thin and dense, could be discerned after her shawl's frayed edges, which almost touched the floor.

She sat down at Sherlock's side, showing her distinctive mark: A Chinese bat tattooed in her groin.

-So, Mister Higgings...- Said Irene with a guffaw.- Don't you know I'm also in costumes?- Then, she took her shawl and took a big jade dildo.- .- It was made for me by one of the best sculptors in China.- And added, shrugging her shoulders.- When I ordered it, he laughed and called me a whore.

Sherlock tried to say something, but was only capable of make some syllables. Irene carried on speaking:

-Well, well, Mr. Holmes (That is your name, isn't it?) you're officially beat by a woman... For a second time. To cap it all, The Woman. – And added with an evil laugh when she heard Sherlock's moaning.- Yes, it's difficult finding words sometimes, isn't it? Ah! Before I forget. While you are here, the jewels are on a ship in the sea, on its way to a foundry in India. You can't be the best in everything, Mr. Holmes.

Suddenly, Sherlock recovered his consciousness and said:

-You're bluffing me.

-What?!- Said Irene, opening her eyes wide.

-I've said you're bluffing me. The jewels are still in Istanbul. And there's someone who's going to look for and find them.

-Really? Who?

-Me.

That answer provoked that Irene gave him some lashes that resounded in the entire hotel's floor and left reddish striations in Sherlock's back. "A little souvenir." She whispered. Sherlock's eyes, as black as jets, turned into two burning coals. "WHORE!" He ejaculated.

But Irene had disappeared, leaving her Manila shawl and a note on the bed. The note said: "This is only the begging."

CHAPTER IV

Sherlock didn't get a wink of sleep all night. He had his body bruised because of the hitting of the old witch of Irene Adler and, to cap it all, he hadn't digested the dinner well and his stomach felt like a pot of boiling water.

He decided to take his day off and spending it in one of the many Hammans in the city. Hot and cold water, steam baths, massages, tea and hookahs. The best for relax after a bad night.

When he entered, he went to the men area and, once in the changing room, he got undressed. After covering his body with a white towel, he went to the steam room. Some minutes later, red and covered with sweat, went out in order to go to inmediatly to the cold pool. And, who did he find? Jim Moriarty himself. Even stripped of his Westwood suit and with his private parts covered in the same towel Sherlock wore, still imposed respect to the detective.

-Well, well, Sherlock.- Said Moriarty between guffaws.- Here we are...

-What the hell are you doing in Istanbul?! It was supposed you were dead.

-Did you know there are other two Jim Moriarty?

-What?!

-That's it. When a bee queen dies in a beehive, is substituted by other.

-If I could, I would kill you this instant.

Guffaws returned.

-No, you won't.

Mostly, because for the rest of the world you're dead and buried. You imagine the shock it would be for John to discover that you're not dead, but playing the righteous avenger. You're on holiday. Let's make a truce. In the meantime, enjoy your bath.

Moriarty wrapped in his bathrobe and went out running of the Hamman. Not before saying: "I will return."

A couple of hours later, Sherlock returned to his hotel.

"Merhaba." He said to the receptionist.

"Merhaba, mister Holmes." The receptionist said, courteously, before giving Sherlock a paper envelope. "This is for you."

"Tesekkuler."(2)

When he got to his room, he took off his shoes, lied down on his bed and opened the envelope. It contained a ticket for that night's show: A performance of Orff's Carmina Burana. "Well, well..." He thought.

So, that night, he dressed his tuxedo, phoned Mustafa, put the ticket in his wallet and went out the hotel.

The Mercedes went over the city quickly, until they got to the theatre, where Mustafa helped his passenger out. Sherlock told him to return in two hours.

"I don't know why, but this smells like a tight spot." He thought while he left his coat in the cloakroom.

He showed the usher his ticket and sat next to a man dressed in a green tunic. He wore a turban of the same colour and a thick black beard covered his cheeks.

When the show was finished, the man gave to Sherlock a little paper envelope, sealed with red wax. It was then when he approached his lips to Sherlock's ear and a sensual woman's voice said: "Good night, Mr. Holmes".

CHAPTER V

The next day, Sherlock woke up because of the voice of the Muhadin, who called the faithful to the morning prayers. The proclamation lasted about five minutes and, then everything got absorbed in silence.

After a good cold shower, Sherlock went downstairs to the hall in order to have breakfast. While he was taking a cup of tea, he thought about the envelope which that mysterious man gave him that night and of which he hadn't separate from it. When he ended his breakfast, he looked at it and called Mustafa.

-Where to, sir?- Said the chauffeur when he sat in the car.

-Saint Sophia.

Sherlock thought then that the bigger mosque in the city and also, finished the praying hour, would be the best place for thinking. When he arrived to the huge building, he took off his shoes and observed how the faithful came and went, until he decided to finally open the envelope. It contained an oblong white card, with a message printed in long black letters: C2H3ClnAgAuCIstStarW1234JM. Between the third letter C and the I, there was a yellow square with a big black circle in the middle.

He sat in a bench, closed his eyes and made a visit to his mental palace.

"Let's see..." He thought. "There are capital letters, small letters and numbers. C can be carbon, 2 means we have two carbon atoms." He started to write down his thoughts in a small notebook. "Then, the H, hydrogen. Three hydrogen atoms. Cl is chlorine. The small n means that here can be many chlorine atoms, but we don't know how many. This is the chemical formula of a plastic, the polyvinyl chloride or PVC. Now, Ag. Ag can mean antigen, but in a chemical formula we don't have antigens, so this must be the symbol of silver. Au is the symbol of gold; C, carbon again. In the international code of signals, this flag represents the letter I and its word is India. 1234 could be an hour, 12:34 in the morning. Well, well, well. There is a ship which comes from India on Wednesday morning, that means tomorrow, at 12:34 AM and is returning to the subcontinent loaded with PVC objects, in where there have been hidden objects in silver, gold and crystallized carbon. IsStar is an abbreviation of the ship's name, Istanbul Star. Now I know where the jewels are. Also, this is something made by JM, that is, Jim Moriarty.

He went out running from the mosque and made Mustafa drive him back to the hotel. When he arrived to his room, he turned the computer on. In the screen he saw Mycroft.

-Hello, brother dear.

-Hello, Sherlock.

-Niké.(3)

-Really?

-Tomorrow, everything will be fine.

The next day, at sunrise, Sherlock started to get ready. He was so excited than that night he did not sleep. He took his pistol and went to the port, where he recovered his strength with sesame bread, tea and a cottage cheese delicious before walking the quays.

Turkish police was ready for getting into action. The ship employees were doing the last checking before starting the trip. The planned hour for breaking loose was, precisely, 12:34 AM, an hour and a half later. At noon, the chief of Istanbul's police received a text message in his mobile phone: VATICAN CAMEOS!

It was then when the police boarded the ship and arrested all his occupants. Many of them, as it was known later, belonged to Moriarty's gang.

But a person achieved to escape, leaving behind her some golden metal fingernails.

The next day, Sherlock left Istanbul without telling anybody where he was going. There was still a lot of work to do before returning from the dead.

THE END

(1) Welcome, in Turkish.

(2) Thank you, in Turkish.

(3) Victory, in Ancient Greek. Pronunce /n/ as in number, /i/ as in Italy, /k/ as in kilo and /e/ as in elephant.


End file.
